i said i’m sorry
twenty years ago
when your heart was broken
by a girl who,
in my opinion,
was so
utterly
wrong for you.
Not good enough,
smart enough,
to challenge the
brain I knew.
I watched you cry,
held your hand,
sobbed for you.
hoping
that one day you would see me
as more than
a shoulder.
(I told my mom I loved you)
(but not you)

you said i’m sorry
twenty years ago,
with the lips that had
just
pressed
against mine.
A night of coming home
festivities.
(I sang a song in your ear as we danced)
Watching you drive away
i knew your regret,
but i didn’t feel it.
I held onto that night.

i said i’m sorry
nineteen years ago
after watching teen talent.
You requested my presence
as a friendly gesture, to
touch base
again.
You had hardened,
a bit sadder
than before.
I left early;
you voiced no objection,
but you still remember
the flowers on my dress.
(you say i shook your hand before i left)
( i say i just wanted to touch you
one
last
time.)

you said i’m sorry
a year and a half ago,
that my life
wasn’t quite the
fairytale land of wonder
that you had envisioned for me.
But you made it better.
made me better.
We healed each other,
(we were both a bit broken, weren’t we)
with tiffs about old stories
and
reminiscing about
parentheses and paper.

i said i’m sorry
four months ago
when i saw your boxes.
And i realized then
that maybe my brokenness
was healed,
and maybe it
wasn’t,
but i was afraid to put
weight
on it
still.
(and you thought it was you,
and i knew you did,
but it never was easy
to convince you of your
wrongness.)

and now we say
we’re sorry
not because we are.
but because of
who
we are.
and we don’t quite know
where
that
puts
us.

but i’m pretty sure that

I love you
(I told my mom. and you this time.)

our dancing days aren’t over
(I’ll sing a song in your ear)

I still use any excuse to touch you
(even though the flowery dresses are long gone)

Our once again slightly broken selves are
hoping
for time to celebrate a million more
I’m sorries.
(I hold on to that)